


All I wanna do is end up with you

by littlecountrymouse



Category: Animal Kingdom (TV)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, Smut, almost breaking up then getting back together, but nothing worse than what the show itself does, deran bottoming, kinda sorta mention of incest I guess?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-21 20:28:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17050028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlecountrymouse/pseuds/littlecountrymouse
Summary: They’ve been making a mess of things lately, and Deran is sure that when Adrian storms out of their house that he’ll never be coming back, and all that will be left of Deran is pieces of him on the floor.He doesn’t expect Adrian to come back home nearly twenty four hours later to put them back together again.





	All I wanna do is end up with you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Iresposts](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iresposts/gifts).



> This is a prompt fill for the amazing @ires-posts, who wanted “I can’t do this.” Which was very difficult to turn into something other than pure angst! This is TOTALLY different than where I was planning to take it, but I have the other story about half finished and I’ll post it too, so I guess you get two fics for the price of one? 
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoy it! Come hit me up any time with prompts or just to chat at littlecountrymouse.tumblr.com

Deran knows he's messed up, he just doesn’t know how it got so bad so quick. It’s been so long since he fought with Adrian that he’d almost forgotten how badly it hurt in the aftermath, and how to avoid it happening in the first place. At least before they just got mad, then got horny, then they fucked away the rage and frustration and they could pretend in the end that it didn't matter, that they were just friends who happened to fuck. But now, they’re in an honest-to-god relationship, they’ve got a house together and everyone knows what they mean to each other, so every cruel word that comes out of Adrian’s mouth feels like Deran’s just been dealt a body blow. It nearly fucking kills him to hear Adrian fire back, quiet and furious and truly meaning every word, “Fuck you, Deran. I'm done." 

Adrian grabs his keys off the table and leaves, slamming the door behind him, and Deran sinks into a chair in their living room, his head hidden in his hands while he tries his best not to cry. 

It doesn’t work - less than a minute later, the first hot tears come and then Deran just can’t make them stop. Tonight was so good compared to the last few months, and he’s got no idea where he made the wrong step that sent them down this path. He knows at one point Adrian got into him about Smurf, the shit she’s pulling to pull him back into the Cody family mess that Deran’s been trying to escape, and Deran was just done with it. It’s bad enough he has to try to be the one holding all of them together, he doesn’t need to be trying to keep the peace here, too. He just wishes he could have kept his stupid fucking mouth shut for once …

_“I can’t do this, I can’t keep trying to make this work with them and with you. I get it, you hate her, but we’re stuck with her after the stupid shit you pulled last year!” Deran tries so hard not to cry in front of Adrian again. He’s had enough of doing that._

_“Seriously? You’re blaming **me** for everything you’re doing for her right now? I get it, I fucked up badly, but I’m trying to fix that and you don’t have to go back to her to keep making it right, we’ve already done what she asked! Jesus Christ, Deran, you might as well crawl back into bed with her, you’re back to doing pretty much everything else again!”_

And fuck Adrian for bringing that up. Deran’s tried all his life to shove all the shit that’s gone on with Smurf down, to not let it fuck with him too much, but somehow Adrian has always known how to haul it out and destroy him just when Deran’s feeling unsteady again.

Everything went rapidly downhill from there. Deran had picked up an empty beer bottle and thrown it across the room just to hear it smash, and Adrian had flinched and said he was acting like a kid throwing a tantrum. In the middle of screaming back at him that he had no right to lecture Deran on being a well-adjusted adult, because Adrian’s a fuckload closer to it than Deran but he’s still a mess, Adrian had started to laugh. It wasn’t the gorgeous, smoky thing that he let out whenever Deran actually did something funny, instead it was bitter and awful and downright cruel. Then he’d just shrugged at Deran, looking down on him like he was just shit on his shoe again, and that’s where it’s ended. With a a killing blow and Adrian leaving to god-knows-where. 

Deran is the first to admit things haven’t been great with them lately. They’re both working for his mom now, plus Adrian’s back at the shop and Deran’s busting his ass with the bar and trying to pull jobs with his brothers far enough from home that Smurf doesn’t recognize them, yet close enough they don’t mess it up. He ends up feeling like a bomb waiting to go off every day, so much like the guy he’d been before, and sometimes all it takes is a single comment off Adrian to set him off. They’ve been bitching at each other on and off for nearly a month, snarling like a pair of junkyard dogs, Deran too caught up and too stupid to realize that they were heading towards the end, but of course now that Adrian’s walked out that door, the same desperate, terrified sensation that he'd gotten at Real Surf when Adrian ended things before wells up in his chest and gets lodged in his throat. It’s weird that they’ve been fighting for years in some way or another, fights that more than once have turned physical, yet this one feels like it’s the first time they’ve done it.

Deran thumps the top of the table with a closed fist, making all of their combined shit on it rattle in place, and something falls over but Deran can’t see what it is with his eyes blurred from tears. It’s only nine PM, but he doesn’t really want to be awake anymore. Hell, he doesn’t even want to be _alive_ anymore. It hurts to breathe, to be awake with things the way they are, and Deran’s so terrified and miserable he doesn’t know what path to take. He thought he’d done it better this time, that he wouldn’t have to worry about losing Adrian again if he just tried hard enough, but maybe this is the end. Maybe Adrian can love him and Deran can love him in return with all his heart, but it just doesn’t matter if Deran keeps fucking it up at every turn.

In the end, instead of getting blackout drunk or smashing their house to pieces, he curls up in their huge bed, wrapped tight around Adrian’s pillow, and sleeps fitfully - he dreams that he wakes up in the morning and everything’s fixed somehow, or that he never got Adrian back before, or that he never fucked it all up in the first place, and then every time he wakes up, he remembers that it’s real, that Adrian left, and Deran doesn’t know how to fix it or even if he can. 

He’s a zombie when he gets out of bed, barely managing to tidy the house up and throw some washing in the machine but he knows if he doesn’t it’ll just be one more thing Adrian will be pissed at when _(or if)_ he ever comes home. It’s not until he’s climbing into his van to go back to the bar that he gets a text from Adrian. _We need to talk._ And fuck him, even if Deran’s heart seizes and skips in his chest at the words. If Adrian wants to leave him, he could do better than that bullshit. 

_I think we’ve both said enough,_ is what he shoots back before throwing his phone into the glovebox, determined to ignore it. Fuck Adrian for doing that, for tearing him apart again, when Deran’s going to the place he’d made for them both, that he’d bought to show Adrian he could do better than what he’d done before. Fuck him for tainting the bar with the memories of all the times they’ve fucked and curled up with one another there, and now if Adrian leaves him Deran’s going to have to burn the place down, and the house too, because he won’t be able to set foot in them again without crying.

When he ends up checking his phone just before the evening rush, Deran really isn’t surprised that there’s no reply from Adrian there, given that he pretty much destroyed any chance of a conversation before it even began.

Thing is, he’s regretted that message since he sent it, just like he’s been regretting everything else he’s done to wreck this again. It was stupid, and childish, and it’s going to drive Adrian right out the door if he wasn’t already headed there, but Deran’s a stubborn asshole just like his brothers, and if Adrian wants to dump him Deran refuses to do the work for him. But really, he should have just fucking manned up and apologized for last night, for everything he’s done wrong, should have just done what Adrian wants and started to get away from his family again even though he’s been trying to make it so that Smurf doesn’t take Adrian away from him. He should have told her where to go, should have taken Adrian and ran far, far away where neither of them are ever going to be in danger again. He should have done better, _known better,_ than what he’s done in the past, instead of digging himself back into the same old hole. 

But there’s no point sitting here trying to find a solution for something that’s broken so bad, when Deran’s already tried so hard and it hasn’t worked. So he throws his phone back in the van and throws himself into work, trying to forget all the fun he’s had with Adrian in this place.

****

He doesn’t even try to go to bed when he gets back to the house, instead curling up on the couch to doze, still filthy from the bar, because it’s likely to be an improvement over sleeping in the bed where Adrian should be waiting for him. He can’t even bring himself to go into their bedroom - it’s bad enough that his car’s still not there, that the house is dark and cold instead of the kitchen being lit up by Adrian before he goes to bed so Deran doesn’t run into the wall on his way into the house.

It’s the knock on the front door that gets him up, eventually, because his phone’s still in the van and his idiot brothers or nephew are probably driving themselves nuts trying to find him.

“Jesus Christ, I’m coming,” he grumbles when it won’t stop, an insistent pounding in his head that refuses to go away. He throws the locks and pulls the door open, trying to rub the grit out of his eyes so he doesn’t look quite so much like a corpse, and he’s honestly expecting J or Pope to be standing there, an easy target for the punch he’d dearly like to throw.

Instead, it’s Adrian, hand raised to knock again and wearing the same clothes he’d left in, his bottom lip red and swollen from his chewing on it. All of Deran’s anger drains away, just leaving him exhausted, and he sighs and steps back to let him in. He might as well get this over with, let the pain of losing him be cut into his skin and muscle and bone again like when Adrian had shoved him away nearly two years ago, and he can leave so that Deran can go away and lick his wounds.

Adrian crosses the threshold, somehow managing to look so small when in reality he’s nearly three inches taller than Deran and has a good twenty pounds on him. Deran tries not to let himself hurt at the thought that Adrian probably slept in his car, probably hasn’t eaten anything, tries not to look after him like he’s been trying to because he’ll just look fucking stupid and desperate. Instead, he turns and walks down the hall with Adrian’s soft footsteps echoing behind him, pretty sure he’d rather do this in the house than have the neighbors able to see them fuck it up again.

“I shouldn’t have said what I did. Any of it.” Adrian says quietly, so quietly Deran barely hears him and when he does, he trips over his own feet. He manages to twist around and stare at Adrian, even if he has to lean on the wall to stop himself falling over in surprise. Not once, in all the years of them fighting, has Adrian ever taken back something he’s said, because he so rarely says something he doesn’t mean with all his heart. 

Deran swallows back the rock in his throat. He’s got to say something in return, because unlike Adrian, Deran _has_ said shit he doesn’t mean, or doesn’t mean enough to risk losing Adrian over it. But words don’t come easily to him - sure, he can bullshit pretty well, and he’s not exactly dumb, but he isn’t like Adrian or Baz, or his mom, people who can manage to say stuff, even something this important, without fucking it all up.

“Me either,” is what he manages to force out, and that horrible, terrified feeling comes back, leaving Deran’s eyes wet and his chest aching. Even though they aren’t shouting, and Adrian doesn’t look scared of him, it hurts as badly as the last time, and Deran _hates_ it. 

“We’ve just been making a mess of it, haven’t we?” Adrian’s eyes are soft and sad when he moves closer, into Deran’s space, his hands coming up to frame Deran’s face and tilt his head back easily. Deran gulps back air when Adrian’s big hands stroke his skin, his thumbs brushing over his cheeks like he can get rid of the tear stains that have to be there. “I know I've been pushing at you way too much,” Adrian says quietly, his voice as gentle as his hands, and Deran’s sort of lost here. This isn’t how he expected it to go at all. They’ve split up twice in the past, both times Deran’s fault then as well, and it had been explosive, cruel and loud and unforgettable, but a good valve for all the emotions they’d both felt at the time. But it figures that even though they can’t make a relationship work like a pair of adults should, they’ve grown up enough to break up more maturely.

Adrian sighs heavily, sounding just as miserable as Deran feels. “I kept hoping you’d just talk to me, tell me what you need me to do to make this all easier for you before you exploded. But this isn’t fair, we aren’t making each other happy at the moment, so maybe …” he trails off, like he can’t bring himself to say it.

“I don’t wanna break up,” Deran blurts out in a sudden, petrified rush. “Please. I don’t wanna break up. I wanna fix it.”

Those stupid fucking tears are spilling over, stinging his already raw skin, and at some point he’s gotten his hands twisted into the fabric of Adrian’s shirt and is pulling him closer, like if he just holds on tight enough then Adrian won’t walk away.

Adrian brightens like the sun’s shining on him, even though it’s all of five AM. “Same here,” he breathes out, relieved like he’s been thinking that Deran wanted out when all he really wants is to be as close to Adrian as he can get.

It’s like a light being switched on after that - Deran doesn’t know who kisses who first, or how the hell they make it to the bedroom and get their clothes off, but it’s rough like it was years ago, in the best way possible. Deran’s clinging, tight enough that he’s probably bruising Adrian everywhere he touches him, but Adrian’s not stopping him, not flinching or wincing like he did sometimes before. Deran has to admit that he likes the idea of Adrian wearing bruises tomorrow, marks that say he belongs to Deran, but only if he gets some on his own skin in return.

Adrian moves to flip over, but something in Deran snaps and he holds him in place, lets his legs fall apart so Adrian can slide between them easily. 

Adrian’s eyes are huge in the pre-dawn gloom. “Deran … are you sure?”

Deran nods, his throat suddenly dry. They haven’t done this in … well, in a very long time, and it didn’t go like he’d wanted it to then. He’d been sober and still so closeted it hurt, and he’d freaked out badly, so terrified that it made him suddenly gayer to be taking it up the ass than to be fucking Adrian. But he wants it now, wants Adrian holding him open and splitting him apart, wants to wear his come and his bite marks and wants it all to be better this time around. 

Adrian stares down at him, somehow managing to make Deran feel even more stripped bare even though he’s naked and spread wide in front of him, afraid he’ll call it off if he sees that Deran wants it so badly but he’s nervous as hell. In the end he sees something in Deran’s face that makes him move, and Deran melts under his hands, lets Adrian move him and mould him to where he wants him.

When he eventually gets Deran ready and himself slicked up, he pushes inside in one long, careful slide that makes Deran groan and drop his hands to Adrian’s incredible ass, pulling him in closer. “Hurry up, fuck, _c’mon, Adrian.”_

He shudders when Adrian actually listens to him, pressing in enough to make Deran feel it even more, but it’s still not enough, still isn’t what he needs. He whines and bucks under him, trying to shift Adrian’s bulk to where he wants him while his fingernails scrabble over the sweat-slick skin of Adrian’s back and his ass. Adrian slams in harder, one powerful thrust that makes Deran whine and sends his eyes rolling back in his head, and the drag of Adrian’s dick inside him is good, it’s so fucking _good,_ but it’s still not enough. He wants to be reminded of this for at least a couple of days. “Harder, _fuck,_ Adrian, please,” he begs, his voice shot already.

Adrian curses, but he drags Deran’s legs up. He’s flexible enough to take the change in angle, but when Adrian pushes him further, gets his thighs pressed against his chest, Deran knows he’s gonna feel it in the morning, his muscles burning with the stretch. It’s fucking _perfect._ He drags Adrian’s mouth down to his, hauling him in for a kiss that hopefully gets across the message Deran wants it to.

“C’mon, man, I can take it,” he punches out when he manages to pull his mouth away from Adrian’s to breathe against his neck, his nails scrabbling for purchase in Adrian’s hair and along the line of his spine.

Adrian actually obeys him for once, driving in with all the power of his thighs and his lower back, enough to shove Deran up the bed, and he jerks with the wave of sensation and pressure, a strangled, high-pitched cry being forced out of him at the same time as his eyes roll back.

“Fuck,” Adrian forces out and pulls back a little, pressing their foreheads together. “Deran, we gotta slow down, babe. I’m gonna hurt you.”

It takes Deran a moment to figure out what he’s said, the world spinning around him so fast that he can’t make sense of anything other than Adrian deep inside him. When he puzzles out the words, he tugs at Adrian’s hips frantically. “No, no, fuck, it's good, it's good, please,” is all he can get out in return, desperate to keep this going, to be marked as Adrian’s inside and out and then he can fix everything else that’s gone wrong. And yeah, sure, it almost feels like too much, Adrian's already big dick feeling fucking huge right now, but it’s exactly what Deran wants. He wants to feel just like this, pinned down and overwhelmed and _owned._

He’s pretty much forgotten his own dick up until now, not wanting to let go of Adrian even for that, but now he reaches between them, wraps his fist around it and strokes himself completely hard again in time to Adrian’s rough, perfect thrusts. And then Adrian finds that place inside him and just stays there, making Deran shudder and buck beneath him while god-knows-what comes tumbling out of his mouth, but it seems to be doing it for Adrian if the way he cries out is any indication. 

It doesn’t take much of that, Adrian pressed firm against his prostate and grinding into him while Deran jerks himself off, before he’s wailing under him and coming all over them both.

Adrian whines and pulls him into a brief kiss before pulling away to stare down between them for a second, then he blinks back up at Deran. “Christ, you’re gorgeous,” he forces out, staying so still inside Deran that it’s disturbing. “You want me to stop?”

Deran considers it for all of half a second - sure, he’s straddling that line now between a good sensitivity and just way too much, but fuck it. He can take it, so he shakes his head. “Go ahead, man.”

Adrian grins, all white teeth in the blue light, and starts to move again. He’s slow now, shifting to let Deran’s legs fall gently back down onto the mattress, then dropping down heavily on top of him to kiss Deran with everything he's got, one hand buried in his hair and sending pinpricks up his spine. Deran can hardly breathe, still coming down from the last twenty-four hours as well as getting off, and he’s grateful when Adrian just grinds slowly, almost gentle with him. It’s perfect, enough to get Adrian off but not so much that Deran ends up overwhelmed, and he lets himself shake apart and cling to Adrian even tighter.

It manages to feel both like an eternity and no time at all before Adrian’s coming with a sharp cry of “Deran, holy _shit,”_ filling him up while Deran stares at him in wonder.

He doesn’t know how he managed to avoid having his world fall on top of him this time, but he’s not letting go unless Adrian forces him to.


End file.
